


A Torturous Affair

by Adlocked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F, F/M, Sherlock's a professor, Teacher-Student Relationship, idk yet, irene's a ravenclaw, irene's of age, john might show up, same with mary, sherlock's a former gryffindor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adlocked/pseuds/Adlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irene Adler is a seventh-year, 17 year-old Ravenclaw. Sherlock Holmes is the Potions' Master at Hogwarts, only four years out of Hogwarts but far smarter than any of the professors there. He's been teaching Irene for the past two years and has been finding it increasingly more difficult to keep his thoughts about her proper. What will he do, when left alone with her and her tricks?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Tempting

Irene Adler was a special case in the Advanced Potions class. A seventh-year Ravenclaw with ice-blue eyes and dark curls that brushed the tops of her breasts; she hung out with mostly Slytherins with the exception of a female Hufflepuff that was only ever addressed as 'Kate'. But the company she kept was not the complicating trait that peaked Sherlock's interest so much as her mind.

 

Irene was, in fact, a rather smart girl who had passed her O.W.L.'s with all O's and continued to excel in his classes, as well as her others if the fellow staff members were being truthful, however she dressed and acted as though she was dimwitted. The robes that were required were pulled in, wrapped around her slim frame and hugging every curve of her 32-24-34 body. Her bra was always peeking out, making it evident to anyone who saw that she was not wearing any clothes beneath the black fabric.

 

Add to the fact that she had added a slit on the left side that went clean up to her hip, the traditional robe looked more along the lines of a muggle-dress than it resembled wizarding-wear. A fact that she seemed to know and use.

 

Not a class went by that Irene wasn't touching someone's arm or laughing in her sultry way while smiling at some classmate that surrounded her. Guy or girl, it didn't seem to matter, Irene would flirt and tease them all; getting the student into a blushing, stuttering frenzy that often lasted beyond the end of class. It was an enigma that puzzled Sherlock Holmes to no end and as every student and faculty member knew, Professor Holmes hated not knowing something.

 

Today was no difference, Sherlock noted as he sat behind his desk and waited for the class to enter. Irene was already here, perched on a table with her legs crossed and playing with a lock of Molly Hooper's fire-red hair which matched the blush on her face. Something was said to Molly which had her leaning into Irene and Sherlock stood up, clearing his throat before Irene had a chance to kiss Molly as she had been planning to. Like every class, the students quieted down and hurried to their seats. Molly was quiet, burying her face in her upside-down Potions handbook and Sherlock made a mental note to tell her to stay away from Irene.

 

Irene who had yet to take her seat, instead taking her time to head to the front row where she had staked her claim the first day of school.

 

"Adler, unless you want ten points deducted from your House, I suggest you stop dawdling and sit down." Sherlock rumbled, glaring at the Ravenclaw and doing his best to ignore the fact that her hips were swaying with each steps and that the Slytherins in the back were watching her with greedy eyes. A simple spell would make them stop... But no. He was a teacher and as stupid as they may be, he couldn’t hex them.

 

“I’m not dawdling, Professor...” Irene’s voice made his jaw clench and eyes narrow. “I’m just heading back to my chair.” Her voice was low, sultry. He wanted to hear her say his name; not professor or sir, but his name.

 

“I said sit down...” He snapped, not having the patience to deal with her. Yet Irene still took her time, infuriating him. “Detention then, I think. Immediately after class.”

 

That seemed to get her attention and those wickedly sinful red lips fell apart, gaping at him. Oh, he wanted to use those lips...

“Now, sit down...” Sherlock repeated, watching satisfied as Irene settled into her seat finally. Finally the girl obeyed an order. His gaze turned to look at the other students who were watching like this was some play.

“All of you, take out your homework, now!” He snarled, fixing them all with a glare. “And if I catch any more staring, you’ll be joining me for detention for the next two weeks.”

The class did as they were bid as Sherlock settled down into his chair and flicked his wands; instructions appearing on the board. He plucked up a book to read while the students did as told. Irene was a terrible thought that ran through his mind... One he needed distracting from. A History of Magic’s text book, he prayed, would do the trick. If not... Well, he always had his chambers to take care of the problem...


	2. A Ravenclaw's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene's view of the past two years and her professor.

When class ended, it was normally a free period for both students and teachers before it was time to head to the Great Hall for supper but for Irene Adler, the rather irritating Ravenclaw; it was time for detention with the Potions Proffesor Sherlock Holmes.

  
Not that either of them minded, of course.

  
Irene had found her professor to be quite attractive and was overjoyed when she learned that it would be noneother than the famed Gryffindor who had helped pull off the grandest 'senior' prank Hogwarts had ever seen.

  
Of course, when she met him, she was slightly disappointed that he wasn't what she had imagined him to be. He reminded her of one of the Slytherin's in her year, James Moriarty, with his standoffishness and temper.

  
But Moriarty liked when she paid attention to him, even hexed other kids so her focus was on him and Moran. Professor Holmes wasn't like that at all.  
Which Irene Adler found to be quite a challenge. So, she made a very concious effort to get his attention as he had gotten hers.

  
Robes were pulled tighter and make-up applied heavier. She wore heels almost every day she had his class and her hair was styled in the ways of Grace Kelly or Marilyn Monroe; true Hollywood bombshells.

  
When she found that looks did nothing but perhaps have his eye linger on her for just a fraction, she switched tatics.

  
Classic looks were the ones she stuck too, keeping herself in the shape and style of the old Hollywood but adding in splashes of Wizarding culture with enchanted ribbons that always made her hair look like wind was blowing it.

  
Or animal-shaped bracelets that moved up and down her arms.

  
The trinkets were a lovely distraction; but not to him. If anything, he seemed more determined to look away from her. Which only made her want his gaze more.

  
One day, during the third week of classes in her sixth-year, she went to his desk to correct him on a mistake and noticed the piles of books lying scattered around the floor, the cupboards, even the desk itself.

  
That's when she knew.

  
If she was to get the attention of Sherlock Holmes, she was going to have to show him the side of her that only Kate knew about; her mind.

  
So, she worked hard in class; no longer relying on other students to do her work for her and spending nights writing up extra feet of parchment on her assignments because her thoughts couldn't fit onto what he had assigned.

  
It worked, apparently, because his eyes seemed to stay on her more often then they used to and she found herself staring right back at him whenever she noticed.  
And then, oh the glorious moment that he called her for detention nearly two years later, did she know that her plans had worked.

  
Irene Adler had finally gotten to Sherlock Holmes and it was going to be wonderful.


	3. Taste On His Lip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Adlock... Be still my Potterhead heart.

"Miss Adler." Sherlock watched the young woman before him start to pack up her things over the pages of his book. "You have detention..."

  
"Oh. You were serious about that?" She laughed and all the work that A History of Magic had done was completely ruined. "I thought it was a joke to be honest."

  
"Why would I joke about something like that? It is a serious matter, Miss Adler. This is not the first time you've disrespected me in front of my class and I am forced to take action."

  
His grey eyes narrowed as he watched the little minx slide up to his desk. Thank Merlin his desk covered his lap and she couldn't see just what she was doing to him.

  
But then, then she went on ahead and sat on the edge of his desk with her legs crossing and that slit rode up showing just what was hiding underneath the black fabric. Oh, Merlin.

  
"I have a hard time believing anyone could force the great Sherlock Holmes could do anything..." She was leaning forward now, hand moving in a straight path forward across his desk and knocking aside his books and papers and he was powerless to stop her.

  
"Miss Adler..." At least his voice didn't give away what the desk was hiding and retained it's usual growl. "Your detention is to be used to help me in any way I see fit. In accordance with your behaviour in class lately, I think perhaps, it might be best if you were to help me reorganize my potions closet."

  
Thin, long fingers with their nails painted a sinfully wicked red wrapped around the edge of his desk and held tight as she stared at him and he was forced to look back into her icy-eyes.

  
Bloody Hell, she had to be a Veela with the way she was able to make his ever-working mind stop.

  
"I know a far better way to help you, Mr. Holmes... And who knows, maybe after it, you'll even feel like giving me points back."

  
The damned tease. She was smirking now, grinning like she know exactly what was underneath the wooden desk that was separating her hand and his painful member straining through his trousers and robes.

  
"I believe I already said the way with which you are to assist me." He snapped, nostrils flaring in anger at the inability to solve just what she was trying to do and do what he wanted with her.

  
"Oh, Professor Holmes, I like my way much better." Irene drawled before her hand was leaving the desk and wrapping itself in his tie before pulling his lips against hers and the last comprehensible thought that Sherlock had was that she tasted liked strawberries.


	4. Chapter 4

Irene was straddling his lap, hair thrown back and robes bunched up around her waist as she rode her professor to the point where mere words were a struggle to get out.  
He wanted to say her name, let her know just how much pleasure she was bringing him with her tight, wet heat, but all he could do was moan and move his hips up and down in time with hers.

She was a clever beastie, managing to get him bare as the day he was born and splayed out on his desk without taking off everything but her knickers before sinking onto him within seconds and he had only two complaints: that he couldn't see what she looked like under the robe and that he couldn't touch her skin.

Instead he had to settle for holding her in place by her hips with fabric separating his hands and her skin and she was too in control to give him a chance to do anything about it.  
The raking of her nails down his chest; skin tearing and little droplets of blood forming in her wake, made him break.

His vision was nothing but stars and white and vaguely he could feel something wet trailing over his abdomen and to his neck before the sensation of the orgasm made it go away.

All he could focus on was Irene: filling her up and making her his, letting everyone else know that she was claimed, she chose him over everyone else and he was going to keep her.

Lifting Irene's hips up, he pulled out before using the position and his strength to flip them over so he was looming over her.

Some of her brown curls were trapped under his hand and when she turned her head to give him a better position of her neck, it made her wince in the most pleasing of ways.

"You're mine, Irene Adler..." Sherlock Holmes growled as he lowered his lips to her pale skin and kissed the hollow of her ear. "And I'm going to make everyone know you're taken..."

With that, he moved to her neck; sucking and biting and licking at the delicate skin until it was raw and bruised from his touches. When tomorrow would come, her neck would be mottled and marked from his mouth and while everyone would try to guess just who had the pleasure of defacing Irene's perfect body like that, he'd know.

Maybe tomorrow he'd give her another detention for coming to class looking like that, make her serve it after dinner and then have another go at her neck again.   
Permanently ruin her skin with his mouth.

The idea was enough to have his cock half-hard again but then she was pushing away from him and sliding off the desk, adjusting her robes and not even bothering to look at him.

"I have to get going. Kate's going to notice if I'm late to supper." She drawled sinfully as she turned to look at him before licking her lips. "Next time, stop taking so long to screw me, Professor Holmes... It's insulting."

Irene grinned, blowing him a kiss before sauntering out of the Potions room and leaving Sherlock on his desk, staring after her and wondering just what spell she had cast on him to make him want her so much.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock arrived late to breakfast the following morning having spent most of the night lying awake with a painful erection. Irene had found him after dinner and cornered him into a broom-cupboard for the better half of an hour; spending most of it on her knees.

He hadn't been allowed pleasure from that sweet mouth though, instead being continuously brought to the bridge and stopped by her wicked hands. She had made him promise her that he wouldn't touch himself or anyone else until she claimed him the next day and he spent the rest of the evening plagued with ideas of what the clever witch would do.  
But now it was morning and he was regretting ever making that oath as he slunk down into his seat near the Headmistress and slouched forward in hopes that the abundance of fabric pooling on his lap would hide his arousal from any other faculty.

The pumpkin juice he substituted for water today, reminding himself that after yesterday's activities, he needed to be hydrated. His usual meal of potatoes, bacon and sausage was quickly eaten and he settled for spending the rest of the time looking at the students.

Of course he was really looking for her, wondering what she'd be doing. If she'd chosen to hide the evidence of their illicit doings or bare them proudly. When he saw the glimmer of red and gold among the sea of blue and bronze, he got his answer and smirked into his goblet.

Irene loved the attention, but he had to agree with how she looked, she deserved it.

The robe, a school requirement, was tightly fitted as always but now fell just above her knees. Bright red stockings showed underneath and her hair was tied up into a ponytail by a-No.

Oh, Merlin's beard, no. He stood up, safe for once while looking at her, before turning away and disappearing to the teacher's entrance.

How could he be so thick?

There, holding Irene's hair up, was a red and gold tie with a black and emerald 'Professor S.H.' embroidered onto the tip.


	6. Chapter 6

Irene was laughing as she left the Great Hall, talking with Kate before all of a sudden she was yanked away into a classroom she had never seen before; and by the looks of it, had never been used.

Professor Holmes was holding her by the wrist and holding her up against the door.

"Are you some sort of idiot?" He snarled at her before flinging her arm away from her and moving to start tugging his tie from her curls.

She squirmed under him, gasping and crying out in pain before feeling hair be yanked from her head and the remainder fall down to her shoulders.

He looked positively spitting and she had an urge to tell him off before realising just how close he was to her and that no one else was in the classroom and her lips was quickly against his within seconds.

Sherlock kissed back, dropping the tie into the pocket of his robes before sliding his hand up her thigh. She tasted of strawberries and toast and he wondered just how quickly it would take for him to replace it with the taste of him.

The idea of it already had him growing hard and pressing against her stomach.

But Irene seemed to have other ideas as she was pulling away and reaching for the tie in his pocket.

"See, Mr. Holmes? Already doing it's work... You know, when I was putting that on this morning, I had to stop twice to touch myself because of it."

She was a succubus, she had to be because he found himself undoing the tie at her throat and replacing it with his own monogrammed one before kissing her throat. He could give her detention for it. Accuse her of stealing it from another Gryffindor student.

And-Oh.

Her fingers were sliding the blue and bronze tie down into his pants pocket, purposely brushing his cock through the fabric and making him buck against her touch.

Then she stood up and kissed him before disappearing out the door, leaving him staring after her and growling.

He'd get his revenge. She'd be under him soon; begging for mercy if he had his way.

And he always got his way.


End file.
